Daughters-in-law are our grandchildren’s mothers. As such, they carry our fortunes downstream. Under their guidance, our hopes become others’, Giving their force to a much larger dream. How lucky we are to have you for the carer That nurtures the hearts of our hearts, that they may Each be a lover, a giver and sharer, Remaking the world in their image each day. So do we all, like streams from the mountains, In time become joined in the souls we have made, Now mingled forever, eternal companions, Linked by our love in a bond that won’t fade. As you in your noontime your work of love do, We watch from the hillside, grateful for you.
Sammi at Weekend Writing Prompt is challenging us with the word “note”; in exactly 72 words, this is my response.
My mother was a terrific cook; her specialty was, of course, homemade Italian food – manicotti, arancini, etc.
She left me her ‘recipe book, which was really nothing more than scribbled notes. Her ‘detailed‘ cooking instructions read: “some cheese” and a “glass” of water.
I can remember the glass she used to add water to whatever she was cooking; it was an old Flintstones jelly jar.
Fandango gave us a Story Starter prompt and Denise at GirlieOnTheEdge challenged us to write a Six Sentence Story, being as creative with punctuation as we dare. This is my answer to Fan’s prompt and Girlie’s challenge. Enjoy! 🎶🎶🎶
One day when I was about nine years old, I was home with my mother when there was a knock on our door and when I answered it, I was very surprised to see Dottie Pessin – our pudgy-handed neighbor from around the corner who rarely made an appearance – standing there in her perpetually stained housecoat, carrying a thin, flat brown paper bag, hair in curlers, and declaring “Oh, Nancy, I’m soglad you’re home from school because I have something for you and I’d like to come in to show you.”
Well, it wasn’t every day that someone came to our door unannounced bearing gifts for me for no reason under the sun, so I was not about to turn Dottie away (I was no fool, even back then), but my mother had now joined us and was somewhat suspicious about this strange, unexpected visit and asked Dottie to explain herself, to which Dottie replied “I was out shopping when I came across this album of kid’s songs and I immediately thought of Nancy, so I bought it hoping she would like it” and clapping her pudgy hands added “I’m very anxious for her reaction so let’s give it a listen.”
Now, I don’t mind telling you this surprised the hell out of me and pleased me no end because I was already madly in love with everything about music and could barely contain my excitement as I reached for my little record player with the image of Brenda Lee on the lid; Dottie apparently shared my enthusiasm and as the music played she kept asking me “Do you like it? Do you like it?” to which I had to admit I did indeed like it very much (seeing as how I was a kid listening to an album of kid’s songs – what’s not to like?).
We listened to one side of the album and, as I was flipping it over to listen to the other side, Dottie exclaimed “Oh, I’m so pleased you like the album but I just noticed the time and the “Edge Of Night” is coming on in 15 minutes so I’m going to take the record back now and be on my way”; my mother, ever in She-Wolf mode, saw the confused and let-down look on my face and was damn well taken aback herself by that strange and sudden announcement by Dottie …. after all, the album was supposed to be a gift …. and my mother questioned Dottie in no uncertain terms “Just what the hell do you mean you’ll take Nancy’s gift back, Dottie?”
Without an apparent thought for others nor the slightest bit of remorse or worry …. not about my mother’s sizzling Sicilian volcano temper nor the sadness building in my eyes …. Dottie replied “Oh, this isn’t a gift for Nancy;I bought this for my friend’s daughter who’s the same age as Nancy, but since I don’t know anything about little girls (never having had any myself) and the things they like, I wanted to run it by Nancy first to get her opinion, just to make sure it was a good gift and my friend’s daughter wouldn’t be disappointed”, and with that, Dottie Pessin …. our pudgy-handed neighbor from around the corner who rarely made an appearance …. patted the curlers in her hair, took her thin, flat brown paper bag with the album of kid’s songs inside, held it tightly against her perpetually stained housecoat and bounced out our house like the giant green Grinchhelium balloon in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade without so much as a pudgy-handed wave or a glance over her shoulder to spy a regret-filled teardrop fall onto my purple Daisy Duck sweater (because all the other girls wore Minnie Mouse sweaters and I was never like all the other girls).
Now, you may be asking yourself “Could something this bizarre really be true and how could that woman screw with a little girl’s feelings like that?” and I will tell you that it most certainly is true – every pitiful word; I have no idea how someone could be so unaware and insensitive (unless they have their head so far up their ass they can smell Brylcreem) but, after 60-plus years, I still remember that surreal afternoon with Dottie Pessin like it was yesterday and, being a smart cookie for a 9 year old, I had the same thought about Dottie back then as I have this very moment: “What a stupid bitch!” 🌋
This is the Rolling Stones performing “Bitch” …. as if anything else would do!
It’s time to celebrate Birthday Thursdays over at The Rhythm Section. No fuss, no muss – just wall-to-wall music. Stop by for some cake and sympathy! 🎂 https://rhythmsection.blog/
The Elephant's Trunk 